The Price of Lust and Love
by Rivin Tarinius Majere
Summary: Hogwarts has a new DADA professor. Can you make the connection? But...what happens when she starts to fall for one of the other teachers? And when her orders conflict with her wants? And why the hell is Lucius in the picture?
1. Chapter One

The Price of Lust And Love  
  
School hadn't yet started, and somehow the castle seemed oddly empty without it's beloved students. The woman snorted at the thought, and made her way to the castle's entrance. As expected, the great doors were opened, and a woman awaited the visitor.  
  
  
  
"Hello," she said when the stranger was close enough. Her accent was heavily English, and the strange woman's hand twitched, suppressing the urge to strangle her right there.  
  
  
  
"Good day." She let her own Scottish accent leak through in dollops. "I'm here to apply for the job of Professor to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts."  
  
  
  
"Well, then." The woman gave her a forced, tight-lipped smile, then turned on her heel.  
  
  
  
"Follow me." She walked off, leading the visitor toward the Headmaster's office. She stopped in front of a large statue of a gargoyle, and bespoke it, saying, 'chocolate frogs.' The statue sprang into being, and leapt aside, a revealing a stairwell.  
  
  
  
The woman - Professor McGonagall, as she gathered from the ad she'd read - walked up the stairs, and knocked on the door that awaited her. At the call to enter, she opened the door and walked in, politely holding it for the Scot. She walked in gracefully, head high, the briefcase she held not once banging against her leg.  
  
  
  
She looked around the room, and spotted a perch near the door, on which stood a most strange bird. She studied it a moment, then turned to the man sitting behind the desk on the other side of the room.  
  
  
  
"A new fired phoenix, I presume."  
  
  
  
"Very astute of you, Miss." He too was English, though his accent was not so thick. She gave him a wry smile.  
  
  
  
"As much as I'd love to, I'm here to apply for a job, not talk of a phoenix's life cycle - however interesting it might be."  
  
  
  
The man nodded, a smile of his own appearing.  
  
  
  
"Of course. I'm assuming that you are here for the opening of the Defense Against the Dark Arts position?" Before she could answer, he continued. "Of course, that is the only job opening we have, unless you desire the not-so- coveted job of caretaker's assistant?" His face was completely serious, but his eyes twinkled. It was to bad she had no sense of humor. Her eyes were hard, her jaw tightly shut. Her voice was icy as she spoke.  
  
  
  
"That would be a complete waste of my talents, headmaster." She waited for his name to be given.  
  
  
  
He responded in kind, becoming completely solemn. "Dumbledore," he said. "Professor Albus Dumbledore. And might I know the name of the woman who wants this job?"  
  
  
  
"Demarga Ildder." She reached out a hand, which Dumbledore shook briefly. With a wave of his hand, he invited Ildder to sit. She did so, putting her briefcase on her lap and opening it.  
  
  
  
"These are my recommendation papers, and my degree from Oxford's division for magical people. I majored in Dark Arts and their defenses." She waited, as Dumbledore looked the papers over. He took his time going about it, and for a moment, Ildder wondered if there was some mistake in the papers. But then Albus offered her a smile.  
  
  
  
"These are all in order, but could you tell me what you would teach the students?"  
  
  
  
"What I have learned myself. I will teach them how to protect themselves from the most powerful of Dark Arts curses and charms, depending on their age."  
  
  
  
"And what of the Unforgivable Curses?"  
  
  
  
Surely those in even the third year would know them!" She looked genuinely surprised. "Know of them, that is," she amended quickly.  
  
  
  
"The fourth years and up learned them last year. I'm afraid that the students are a bit lacking in some areas of dangerous beasts, and defending powerful spells."  
  
  
  
Ildder smiled. It was a cold thing that made her eyes look far harder than they were. "Not a problem." Her apparent glee at being hired - and she had no doubt, now, that he wouldn't hire her - was easily recognizable by Albus. He watched her carefully a moment, then allowed a smile.  
  
  
  
"You're hired." 


	2. Chapter Two

Harry was sitting on the train with Hermione and Ron. The train had only just started its long journey towards Hogwarts' secret location; a fact that not many toiled on.  
  
  
  
"Hey, I wonder who'll be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Harry thought aloud.  
  
  
  
Ron snickered. "Probably some old hag." He sneaked a look at Hermione. "Or maybe Lockheart again - he should have his memory back by now, shouldn't he?"  
  
  
  
"Oh, shut up!" Hermione slapped his arm.  
  
  
  
"Ow! Hey, come on, I was just jokin'."  
  
  
  
"Well it wasn't funny!"  
  
  
  
"Alright, alright!" He looked back and winked at Harry, then lifted a fist to his mouth, and coughed, "Lockheart!"  
  
  
  
"Now you've done it!" Harry laughed as Hermione attacked Ron. He watched their antics for a moment, then looked out the window.  
  
  
  
Who would their new teacher be? 


	3. Chapter Three

There was an empty seat at the head table during the welcoming feast. It caused quite a topic of discussion. Most of the chatter focused on furtive glances at the professors, and pointed fingers at the empty chair. Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors were most certainly not immune to the talk - they wanted to know what was going on as much as the next - especially if it meant getting to miss a class!  
  
  
  
"I heard that Dumbledore is going to teach DADA!" Seamus told his fellows.  
  
  
  
"Yeah, well I heard that there isn't going to be a Defense Against the Dark Arts class this year!" Dean had to shout to make himself heard.  
  
  
  
"Yeah? But I heard that-" Neville cut himself off as the Hall became silent. A woman had just slid in through the back door, and taken up a seat between Professors Snape and McGonagall - the spot for the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. She looked out over the students, as small blush creeping it's way onto her cheeks. She lifted an eyebrow at the students, though, as if they were the ones who were out of place. When talk once again started, Professor Ildder turned to McGonagall and Dumbledore, ducking her head in apology.  
  
  
  
"Sorry I'm late - I was prepping for tomorrow morning."  
  
  
  
"It's quite all right, my dear." Albus dismissed her apology with a wave of his hand. She nodded, then attended to her food for a few moments, before she realized that a pair of eyes was fixed on her; well, there were a couple hundred eyes on her, but one pair in particular. She sighed, and turned to look at Snape.  
  
  
  
"What is it?"  
  
  
  
"Excuse me?" His voice was hard, and cold.  
  
  
  
"Why do you keep staring at me?" Her face was blank, and almost calm.  
  
  
  
He arched an eyebrow. "I didn't realize I was." He paid his attention to his food, and scowling at random student. What a colleague, Demarga thought. 


	4. Chapter Four

The moment Draco Malfoy reached his bed that first night, he pulled out a piece of parchment and quill.  
  
Dear Father,  
  
I've just seen the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. We haven't had any classes yet, and no one is sure what her name is - can you believe it? Another woman teacher! What is wrong with Dumbledore? - But there are rumors about her being named.something like Iddler. Or Idlider. Something to that effect. I've never seen her before - or heard of her. But I was thinking that maybe you had, Father? I'll send another owl after our first classes.  
  
  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Draco  
  
  
  
  
  
He folded the letter, and tied a string around it, then went to the owlery. He called down a Horned Owl, and gave him the letter.  
  
  
  
"Take it to the Malfoy Manor." Once the owl flew off, Draco went back to the Common Room. He sat there till well past midnight, speaking with old friends and the like. When he was the last one there, and even Crabbe and Goyle had gone to bed, Malfoy climbed the spiraling stairs the room and bed he had had since the first year of school. 


	5. Chapter Five

Demarga was up early the next morning - whether from nerves of having her first class, or some other reason, she was up with the sun. Having done all the prepping she needed for the first day of school, she decided to take a look at the teacher's lounge - she'd been unable to in the past few days.  
  
Finding the right door, she turned the knob and entered - and was surprised to see another teacher sitting on the couch. Demarga arched an eyebrow, and sat across from the teacher - the same one, she noted who'd stared at her the night before.  
  
"Morning," she said casually. Snape creased his brows, a very confused look on his face. "Excuse me?"  
  
"I said-" Demarga paused, and blushed a bit. The words had come out in Gaelic; she was used to speaking in her own tongue - it was hard to speak so that these Britons could understand her.  
  
"I said, morning," she spoke, switching to the strange, choppy English language.  
  
"Oh." He made no other reply besides. Demarga sighed, and stood to slip off her coat. She turned toward the wardrobe when he spoke again.  
  
"Dumbledore never mentioned your name." She turned in surprise, and smiled.  
  
"Ildder. Demarga." She paused a moment to look him up and down. "Call me Dem."  
  
"Ildder will suffice."  
  
Demarga smiled wryly. "For you, then, I guess it will. And you are? I'm afraid I wasn't introduced to the entire faculty."  
  
"Snape." His answers were all short, so it seemed.  
  
"Any first name, to go with that? I'm pretty sure that *most* of the English have at least two names."  
  
Snape glared. "Severus Snape, if you must know. You will address me as Snape."  
  
"I will?" Demarga asked. "And who are you, to tell me what to say?"  
  
He eyed her up and down, a scowl on his face. "I'm so sorry, madam, let me rephrase that for you to understand." His voice was sarcastic, and he paused, piling on a heavy Scottish accent when he next spoke. "I'd like you to address me as Snape."  
  
Demarga's jaw clenched. "Snape? Why, not Severus? No, wait - how about 'Sevy?' Yes, yes, that name fits you *much* better."  
  
He rose from his seat, and stood glaring at her. Demarga smirked, and turned to put her coat in the wardrobe.  
  
"I'm the Potions teacher." He told her as her back was turned. She didn't know whether to take that as a threat or not.  
  
"Well, that's lovely for you. Now, if you'll excuse me, *Sevy* I'll be heading towards my first class now." She smirked, and left the room, leaving hungry eyes to stare after her. 


End file.
